


RWBY Reader-Insert Request Riot

by orphan_account



Category: RWBY
Genre: (Implied) Threesome, (Sorta) Fingering in a Public Setting, Attempted (and Thwarted) Assassination, Comfort, F/F, F/M, Irregular Updating, M/M, Making Out, Mild Violence (Against Grimm), Multi, Only Half of Chapter 6 is Posted (Will Update When It's Finished), Polyamory, Reader-Insert, Shower Snuggling, secret admirers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-13
Updated: 2017-10-11
Packaged: 2018-12-19 20:04:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 18,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11905227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: A collection of RWBY-related requested reader-insert one-shots.[Story is dropped, as are all requests. Though it seemed best to orphan it rather than straight-up delete it. Sorry I couldn't follow through - I just lost interest in the fandom.]





	1. Behind (Un)locked Doors [Jaune Arc x (F) Reader]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As you start growing more comfortable and content with your new relationship, previous wariness and caution starts becoming more of a last thought. Maybe it’s for the best that you forgot to lock the door, though.
> 
> (Note: I might’ve messed up on the prompt. IDK if they were already out of the closet with their relationship when they got caught, or if getting caught was the catalyst to them coming out about it.
> 
> I ended up going with the latter. The first idea didn’t even occur to me until I’d reread the prompt and had already finished the story. Now I feel antsy.)

**Prompt:** Jaune and (female) Reader have been dating for a while and, up until now, have kept their relationship a secret. One day, Jaune’s team walks in on them making out and shenanigans ensue.

**Relationship: (F) Reader/Jaune Arc**

**Rating: TEEN for making out, (mildly) wandering hands, and a smidgen of language. The content isn’t particularly explicit or sexual, though. Honestly, it starts out fluffy. Reader accidentally ended up being a tad dom, BTW.**

**Word Count: 2792**

 

* * *

 

**Chapter 2: Behind (Un)locked Doors — [Jaune Arc x Reader]**

_Reader_

You gazed down at the screen of your Scroll, reading over Jaune’s last text to you a few more times. There was no real message, aside from the ones from the day before. All that showed was a bunny emoji, plain and simple. Of course, it was meant to be as ordinary and nondescript as possible. The whole point was the code it represented between you and him.

_The coast is clear._

His teammates had left his dorm for the evening. He was alone and free to do all he pleased, and he wanted your company while he had the time. The bunny was just a means of expressing that between yourselves whenever one of you had the time and the privacy.

You peeked around the corner cautiously before continuing down the hall. Nobody else was around, and the dorms you passed were seemingly inactive. There was no one to question your whereabouts, or what you were doing visiting JNPR’s room.

Jaune had been the one to insist on secrecy in the beginning. Growing up with seven sisters had taught him that announcing relationships too soon wasn’t a good idea. Unless he wanted to be bombarded with questions for details, constantly nagged about what he wore each day, and drowned in advice on how to impress his newfound lover. Keeping quiet, in the end, was better.

Part of you agreed. You liked Jaune, really, but there was no sense announcing it the moment he’d finally worked up the nerve to say he liked you. Not until you were sure you had the same affection for him. What if things went south? It wouldn’t look good if you were calling him your boyfriend one day and your ex by the next.

Another part of you, the one that was certain that no other boy would make you as happy as he did, craved the idea of going public. While the moments behind library bookshelves and in empty halls were sweet, you wished you could proudly flaunt that he was _yours._ Beacon’s resident underdog was the man you adored and admired, and you’d shout it from the top of Beacon Tower if you had to.

Still, there was that tiny piece of you whispering, _Not yet. Just enjoy the secrecy a little while longer. Enjoy the peace. Savor the little things._

You lifted your hand, gently knocking on the door in front of you. Quietly, so that it wasn’t any louder than it needed to be. You didn’t want to disturb any of the neighboring dorms and attract unwanted curiosity.

Jaune didn’t take long to answer the door, blue eyes immediately warming at the sight of you. A smile curled your lips, one accompanied by a warm feeling blossoming in your chest. It was difficult not to smile when he looked at you with such raw admiration.

“Can I come in, or are you going to ask me for a password again?” you asked teasingly.

Your boyfriend considered it—maybe genuinely—and then shook his head. His own smile got a little wider, big and bright enough to light up the whole world.

“After you forgot the first time? Seems a little pointless,” he teased back.

He turned away, and you followed him into the room. The door was nudged shut with the toe of your shoe, and the rest of your tension melted away with the soft _click_ it gave when it closed. _Much_ better.

You weren’t so antisocial that being in the open made you feel particularly stressed, really, but something about having alone time with Jaune always made you feel worlds more relaxed. Maybe it was from being able to spend time with him at all. He was easy to be around, and, truth be told, you could’ve lived without the rest of humanity if it meant being around him more often.

“Where did the rest of your team go?” you asked, eyes wandering the dorm.

“Pyrrha and Ren wanted to visit a bookstore in the city, and Nora…” he trailed off with a shrug.

 _Goes wherever Ren goes,_ you finished in silence, nodding. That other side of you almost envied her. How much longer until you would be able to spend as much time with Jaune as she did with Ren?

Another question sprang to mind. “How long do you think we have?” you asked cautiously, mentally crossing your fingers.

Jaune’s expression became thoughtful, and he folded his arms across his chest. With classes out for the day, he’d discarded the armor he usually wore, leaving that _precious_ Pumpkin Pete’s hoodie on display. Another smile graced your lips at the sight.

“I’d say anywhere between an hour or half,” he decided finally.

Not much time, but it was better than anything when it came down to it.

You crossed the room, curling your arms around his waist and burying your face against his chest. It was becoming almost instinctive for his arms to come around you the same way, holding you in return.

“Thank gods,” you mumbled against his hoodie.

He nuzzled your hair affectionately. “Miss me that much?” he joked.

“Always,” you replied sincerely.

You peeked up just in time to catch the blush that dusted across his face oh-so-adorably. Faint, pink, but something you’d kill to see more of. The way he was so easily flustered was perfect.

Whoever had decided that confident boys with suave pick-up lines were best was incredibly wrong. The shy ones were far better.

You tilted your head up, stretching to the tips of your toes to press a brief, chaste kiss to his lips. Just to see the way the blush darkened and reached the tips of his ears. Perfect.

Then he sighed heavily, burying his face against your shoulder. The way he showed his affection was almost puppy-ish, and he nuzzled your neck with a quiet, soft hum. “I missed you, too,” he murmured.

You kissed his forehead, then untangled yourself from him. He didn’t protest as you drew him close and guided him toward his bed. Nor when you tugged him down to lie with you. Especially not when you curled into his side, rested your head on his chest, and slung an arm around his waist. He was as much a cuddler as you were, and he had a habit of basking in your presence the same way you did his.

“How did you do on your test on the Great War?” you asked.

“Passed it,” he said, a hint of smugness and pride in his tone.

“And who do you have to thank for that?” you chided playfully.

“Oh, because you worked _so_ hard to tutor me,” he snorted.

His grin matched yours, and you gave him a light smack on one shoulder. “Hey, I actually did try hard to help you learn!” you laughed. “It’s not _my_ fault you kept distracting me!”

“I’ll try to tone down my charm next time. Can’t have our grades suffering just ‘cos I’m so irresistible.”

You giggled, lifting your chin to press a kiss to his jawline. When you gave the lightest of nibbles, it earned you a laugh. He was ticklish if you were gentle enough about it, and he gave you a light, playfully reprimanding swat with one hand for taking advantage. You couldn’t say you felt all that bad, though.

“What? You want a proper thanks that badly?” he teased.

“It’d certainly be nice.”

“Thank you, then,” he said, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I guess you really _did_ help me out there.”

You smiled mischievously, then shook your head. “Nope, not good enough,” you said, then tapped your lips with one fingertip.

“See, giving you kisses in return for help studying feels like a form of prostitution. That’s _illegal,_ (Y/N).”

“Maybe I don’t care. I’m a bad girl like that,” you said, winking.

He got caught between a giggle and a blush, and there couldn’t have been a better combination in the world. You pressed another kiss to his jaw, then below it. His laugh stuttered for a moment, and you grinned before giving the tiniest nip to his throat.

The way his breath actually caught? Yeah, that was _very_ satisfying.

“And now you’re playing dirty,” he noted, though he was having a hard time fighting off his grin.

You drew yourself up to drape yourself across him, folding your arms across his chest and giving him the sweetest, most innocent smile you could. “I’m not hearing a request to stop.”

“Guess not, huh?” he breathed, blue eyes growing a shade darker.

You took that as his blessing, dipping down to brush your lips against his faintly. It was soft and gentle, and just enough encouragement for him to bring a hand up and run his fingers through your hair carefully. Smile lingering, you closed the miniscule distance left between you both to collect your proper payment.

Jaune was always tentative when he kissed you. Even after so many “good night,” “good morning,” and “see you later” kisses had been shared between you two, he’d never lost his hesitation in these moments. He could get past it with enough encouragement, but you found it endearing while it lasted. Really, shy boys were underrated.

You lifted a hand to caress the side of his face, thumb stroking over his cheekbone affectionately. Each kiss was slow and tender, and the two of you were entirely content with it. Sometimes the best part was savoring the exchange rather than rushing into a sloppy, excited make-out session.

Other times, the best part was teasing the hell out of him to _get_ to that make-out session.

You grazed your teeth against his lower lip, nipping and tugging until you were permitted to brush your tongue against his. The catch in his breath and the soft whimper that followed was something you wanted to engrave in your memory forever.

“You’re still playing dirty.”

The complaint was half-hearted at best. He was too distracted to truly be upset about anything at the moment.

“Get back at me for it,” you goaded softly.

He tried to give an intimidating growl, but it only earned a giggle from you. You pressed another kiss to his lips, using one arm to prop yourself up and tilting your head to find an angle that improved the way your mouth fitted against his. A low groan rose from his throat when you free hand began skimming down his chest.

There was the soft fabric of his jacket, the smooth texture of Pumpkin Pete, the fabric again, then, as your fingers slid under the hem, warm flesh and hardening muscles. Your compliments to Pyrrha. He really was starting to benefit from those late-night training sessions.

Jaune hissed softly. His hand fell from your hair to your hip, fingers curling around you tightly. He still wasn’t quite used to the touching part of this, even when he liked to explore your body just as much as you did his. It was still new to him, though. You’d miss the way he reacted now when it became too familiar, less exciting, more commonplace.

His teeth bit at you that time, catching your lower lip with another of those cute little growls. The heat of your skin flared, and your hand advanced a little more. You caressed his side, your hand gliding along his body, satisfied with the way his hoodie bunched up more and more the further you went. The way he shivered made you smile again.

“(Y/N),” he managed breathlessly.

“Yes?” you asked, leaving a trail of kisses down his jaw instead.

“Remember when we talked about me taking charge?”

“Vaguely. Why—”

You received an answer through actions rather than words. All you’d done was blink, then you found yourself staring up into those beautiful sapphire-blue eyes. A sudden warmth crept over your face, and Jaune seemed to regard that with a sense of triumph.

“Y’know, it’s _really_ nice to be the one making _you_ blush,” he said, smiling fondly. “You pull it off better, anyways.”

The warmth increased a notch or two, and you opened your mouth to come up with some kind of witty retort. The sound of the door handle made you stop, though. You stiffened, and Jaune went just as rigid. This was _not_ the kind of moment that either of you wanted to be caught in.

You gave a squeak of alarm, drawing your knee up to harshly nudge Jaune aside. He managed a yelp as he toppled to the floor, landing with a loud thud and a whimpered curse, but you paid him little mind.

You sat up quickly on the bed. Your eyes were wide, your breathing still a tad ragged. Did you look too disheveled? Would anyone be able to tell what had happened!?

You didn’t have time to think about it.

The door opened and green eyes almost immediately fell upon you. Jaune’s new “friend,” as far as the rest of JNPR knew. Why you were in their dorm and in Jaune’s bed, though...The confusion was written on Pyrrha’s face clearly.

“(Y/N)?” she asked, tilting her head to the side.

“P-Pyrrha!” you gasped out. “U-Uhm…hi!”

Jaune pushed himself to his knees next to you, finally coming into Pyrrha’s view as he rested his head on the edge of the bed with a whine. “I hit my head on the shelf,” he whimpered, burying his face against the sheets. “That _hurt._ ”

You didn’t spare him a glance. You were too busy watching Pyrrha make the connection. The way her mouth suddenly fell open and her eyes grew wider. Soft pink met her cheeks, intensifying until it was nearly as red as her hair.

“I-I am _so_ sorry!” she gasped out.

“N-No, it’s fine!” you replied frantically. “We were—We were just talking!”

The girl was suddenly nudged aside by an impatient Nora, who was eager to see what was such a big deal. When her eyes locked on you, you practically wilted. Once Nora knew, all of Beacon would. The girl didn’t know the meaning of an “inside voice” or “secret.”

She seemed more than pleased, though, whirling around to yank Ren into the room and point at you and Jaune frantically. “I told you! See? _See!?_ I was _right!_ ”

“I stand corrected, then,” Ren said impassively, looking over you and Jaune with quizzical pink orbs. “You were right.”

Jaune, who finally seemed to have dragged himself out of his daze, peeked up his team nervously. “Wait! It’s not what it looks like!” he squeaked out. “We were—”

He faltered, realizing he had no excuse any better than yours. He looked up at you with a frown, unsure of what to say or do.

“Should we just…” he began softly.

You swallowed thickly, looking between him and his teammates. Pyrrha was still blushing in embarrassment, and you’d never seen Nora look so smug before. Ren was…well, Ren.

“Think we should?” you replied quietly.

Jaune paused, getting to his feet. He ran his fingers through his hair, casting his gaze to his floor. “Uhm…You guys remember (Y/N), right? My—my girlfriend?”

A faint blush rose to your face once again. _His_ girlfriend. It rolled off the tongue nicely. You liked how it sounded and you liked hearing him say it. You nearly asked him to do it again.

“I’m _so_ sorry,” Pyrrha squeaked out again. “I-I wouldn’t have just barged in like that if I’d known you two were...”

She made a vague gesture, then turned away to hide her face. You’d never seen the poor girl look more embarrassed.

Nora, though, looked like she’d won the lottery for all her triumphant gloating. There was no way she’d really _known,_ though, right? She couldn’t be that intuitive. Her head was in the clouds half the time, wasn’t it?

“Out of curiosity…” Ren began.

“We haven’t done _anything_ on anyone else’s bed, I _swear!_ ” Jaune yelped.

“…I was going to ask how long it’s been.”

Your lover flinched and blushed again. If not for the scenario, you could’ve kissed him for it.

“About a month?” you offered tentatively.

It sounded so simple and short, but, thinking on it, that wasn’t exactly a small span of time. You’d never considered it much before, but you and Jaune had been together for quite a while…Maybe it was _time_ someone found out. You almost felt relieved, knowing that his teammates were aware of it now.

“Just know,” Nora began, whirling to face you with a _disturbingly_ firm glare. “If you break his heart—”

“Nora!” Jaune complained. “You can’t just threaten her!”

“It _is_ rude,” Ren added.

“No worries, though,” you interjected, casting Jaune a brief smile. “I’ll take good care of him, Nora.”

 

* * *

 

 **A/N:** Ended on a kinda sappy note, but… This wasn’t half-bad. I mean, I know that I have, uhm…like, zero characters I hate in RWBY, but Jaune’s _high_ on my list of favorites. Even if it consists of everyone and the order changes literally every five minutes…he’s always been _perfect._

Then V4 came around and shit _changed._

It’s a good change, though. New armor. New sword. New attitude. Same occasional dorkiness. I like it.

Writing with him makes me smile, TBH. He’s adorable. Just hope he’s not OOC because I’ll admit that he’s not someone I’ve worked with much.

Scarlet x (F) Reader is next on my list, BTW. I’m excited. Are you excited? You’d better be.

 

 **Disclaimer:** Perhaps for the best, I do not have any ownership over RWBY. Nor do I own you. I do, however, own this story and will not take kindly to those that steal or copy it.

**Comments and kudos give me life!**

 

 


	2. Panty-Snatching Sustrai [Mercury Black/(F) Reader/Emerald Sustrai]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Mercury doubts how skilled a thief Emerald can be, she decides to show him just how talented she is. By…stealing your underwear?!

**Prompt:** Mercury doesn’t believe Emerald’s as skilled as she thinks, so she uses those sticky fingers of hers to snag (female) Reader’s underwear to show what a master thief she is.

**Relationship: (F) Reader/Mercury Black/Emerald Sustrai**

**Rating: MATURE for Mercury basically fingering Reader in the middle of a hallway (for, like, five seconds) and Emerald being a sneaky little panty thief. Slight sexual content and mild language. Might’ve implied it’s a sub/dom relationship at the end, too? IDK.**

**Word Count: 1855**

* * *

 

**Chapter 1: Panty-Snatching Sustrai — [Mercury Black x Reader x Emerald Sustrai]**

_Reader_

You were _certain_ that you’d put on panties that morning.

It was only common sense, right? A typical part of your morning routine when it came to getting dressed. Bra. Panties. Socks. Everything else. There was no way you could simply _forget._ It was practically the most important part of your wardrobe!

Especially when it came to your uniform.

Haven’s uniforms weren’t _meant_ to be particularly attractive, sure, but there was no denying that the skirts were a tad shorter than necessary. Every breeze you felt had you panicking as you scurried across campus, and you’d regarded the dormitory stairs with utter terror. It wouldn’t take much for someone to catch a glimpse of your…situation.

Stalking down the dormitory halls, your face burned hot with embarrassment at the idea. Gods, you didn’t need that kind of humiliation.

The idea had your fingertips curling around the hem of your skirt tighter, making sure it stayed down. The faster you could get to your room, the better. Then you could slip on a pair and head to your next class without any need for worry. Going commando just wasn’t your style. Not around campus.

“Hey, (Y/N)!”

Your heart nearly stopped at the sound of your name, and you froze in the middle of the hall like a deer in the headlights as it was. Fearfully, you checked your skirt. Still down. There was no way that anyone had seen your lack of underwear. You were safe.

Sighing in relief, you backtracked a few steps and glanced around the corner. Mercury was standing down the hall, gesturing for you to come over. Emerald, as usual, was at his side. The two went back and forth between being friends and rivals, but the times that you ever actually saw them apart were rare.

All the same, the sight of them made you feel better. Nothing like the presence of a lover (well, _lovers_ ) to ease the stress. Your dorm could wait for a few more minutes, you supposed.

“What is it, guys?” you asked, walking over to join them.

Emerald slid an arm around your waist, drawing you close to her. She was leaning back against the wall, and you didn’t have many issues against leaning on her in turn.

“Nothing,” she said, fingertips brushing a piece of your hair back. “Just haven’t seen you around much today.”

A smile danced across her lips. One that you knew wasn’t _just_ an, “I missed you and I’m happy to see you again,” smile. It was her, “Something’s going to happen and it’s going to be _great—_ for me,” smile.

You nearly withdrew from her out of caution, but having her arms loosely draped around your waist stopped you. It was comforting, being held by her like this. Even more comforting was the way she nuzzled the side of your neck and kissed your pulse affectionately.

No, this _certainly_ wasn’t good behavior coming from her, but you couldn’t resist wanting to indulge.

“You saw me this morning,” you murmured, nuzzling mint-green hair.

She’d visited you before classes began, while you were still lingering in the room alone. You could remember with absolute clarity the way she’d slipped up behind you and peppered your neck with kisses. She hadn’t taken it further than a make-out session (albeit a rather hot and heavy one), but you’d replayed it through your mind on repeat throughout the morning.

Hands slid over your hips, bigger and less calloused—Mercury fought with kicks to the teeth rather than harsh punches to the nose. Then lips touched the other side of your neck, a little more insistently and needily. He was always so transparent when it came to his intentions.

“ _I_ haven’t spent any time with you, though,” Mercury chided. “I think you owe me, (Y/N).”

A shudder rippled through your body. They had you sandwiched between them, and it was moments like these that always resulted in the steamier nights. Usually in their room, on the nights that Cinder and their other teammate were, according to your lovers, busy studying late in the library.

“ _Mercury,_ ” you warned.

He wasn’t the most patient man you’d ever dated, obviously. There were times that you could sincerely believe he’d tear your clothes off and take you on the nearest available surface if he really wanted to. Still, you had limits about what you’d do in a public setting, and he knew it.

Whether or not he’d _respect_ those limits, however, depended on varying factors of the situation.

“I’m not doing anything,” he assured you.

He was, though. Kisses led down the back of your neck, teeth occasionally grazing over the too-sensitive skin. He knew the effect that had on you. It was obvious in the way you whimpered and dug your nails into Emerald’s hips.

She’s stop him, though, wouldn’t she? She was usually the voice of reason if he got out of hand. As little as he obeyed her, though, one mention of telling their leader would put him right back in line.

This time, though, she seemed more than content to let him have his way. It wasn’t like there was anyone around. Not yet, anyways.

You ended up stopping him yourself. When hands slid down your hips and over your thighs, clearly heading under your skirt, you scrambled away from them both with a squeak. Emerald simply gave a wry smile, and Mercury looked more than a little irritated.

“D-Don’t _do_ that!” you managed, face turning a bright shade of red.

Not because you were in the middle of the hallway, not because you were shy of his touch, not because you wouldn’t let him given the right incentive, but because there was no _way_ you could let him find out about your predicament. He’d torment you mercilessly for it and call you an exhibitionist.

“Oh, you’re not _allowed_ to tell me ‘no’,” he chided, tilting his head to the side.

You bit your lower lip against a sassy remark, instead shaking your head. “Not out here!”

Mercury glanced at Emerald. “No one would see,” he said.

You recalled Emerald’s illusionist Semblance with another wave of embarrassment. It had been abused for things like this before. Just a week ago, the librarian had smiled at the sight three students diligently studying one late night, putting forth effort in their academics. The poor woman hadn’t realized that you three were doing anything _but_ that.

You kept your gaze down, and you heard Mercury sigh heavily.

“Fine,” he relented. “One kiss, at least?”

You weren’t sure what in the name of the gods made you actually move forward. If your common sense had been at work, you would’ve stepped back instead. Stupidly, though, you let him draw you into his arms and tilted your chin up to give him the kiss he’d asked for.

Half a second later found you pinned with your back to his chest, one of his arms holding you firmly in place. Not something that you could escape from easily, if experience had taught you anything. If he wanted you trapped and cornered, there wasn’t much you could do about it.

“Mercury!” you squeaked.

“Just need to check something,” he said, kissing your cheek.

His free hand slid along your thigh, fingers creeping under your skirt. As fingertips brushed against your exposed sex and sank in deep, you wondered if it was possible to die of embarrassment.

“M-Merc!” you choked out.

He ignored you, looking up at Emerald with narrowed eyes. “You actually did it?”

Your girlfriend smiled smugly, red eyes turning from you to him. “You thought I couldn’t do it? I’m hurt.”

“I’m still not sure I believe you,” he returned, voice calm and level, like he wasn’t fingering his girlfriend in the middle of a hallway. “Prove it.”

You twitched and shuddered in his grip, biting your lower lip against a whimper. The heel of his hand grinded down against your clitoris to keep you occupied, and you gave a small jerk of surprise.

Emerald tore her gaze from you once again, then offered a shrug. She slipped a hand into her uniform jacket, producing something that earned grudging, “Hmph,” from Mercury. Utterly shocked, you watched as she dangled your panties from the tip of one hooked finger, waving them triumphantly before her partner. It was the very same pair you’d put on that morning!

You opened your mouth to snarl a complaint at her, but all that came out was a choked moan. You were using him for support at that point, a tad too weak at the knees. All the same, you tried to maintain a glare at the very least.

“Huh, I actually remember those ones,” Mercury hummed. “Definitely hers.”

“See? You owe me now,” Emerald said smugly.

“Ten Lien when we get to the dorm,” he agreed.

You hissed sharply, the noise mingling with a whine. Mercury glanced back at you, then withdrew his hand and let you go. You stepped from him on wobbly legs, snatching your underwear from Emerald as soon as you found your balance again. You hastily stepped into them, giving your lovers the nastiest look you could muster.

“What the _hell?!_ ” you demanded.

“Mercury and I made a bet,” Emerald explained, folding her arms. “He said I couldn’t steal your panties without you noticing. I figured that I oughta prove him wrong.”

You recalled the morning once again, the only time you’d had contact with her in the day until now. You could remember the way she’d dragged you down to your bed, brushed her tongue against yours so invitingly, slid her fingertips along your thigh in a way that had made you shudder…You should’ve known. She’d simply made sure to keep you so distracted that you didn’t realize it.

“Do you know how _freaked out_ I’ve been all day!?” you scolded.

Emerald shrugged, clearly feeling little to no guilt over her actions. Mercury only gave you a cheeky grin, obviously just as uncaring. Gods, they were too much sometimes.

You hissed venomously, turning to stalk away from them. Oh, neither of them would be allowed to lay a single finger on you for a _long_ time after this. Not if their damned competitiveness was going to start causing _you_ distress.

“She can’t be that mad at us, can she?” Emerald mused.

“…Nah, she’ll get over it,” Mercury said after brief consideration.

You paused, turning to look back at them. Your snarl could’ve made an Ursa quiver in fear.

“Maybe after you’ve gotten on your knees and _begged_ for forgiveness,” you hissed.

 

_Omniscient_

They nearly shuddered as you vanished around the corner. They’d seen Cinder in some of her worst moods, and they’d admit that you could give the woman a run for her money.

“She’s hot when she’s mad, don’t you think?” Mercury whispered.

“We should do this more often,” Emerald agreed.

“ _Begging,_ though. Not sure it’s my thing.”

“Can’t say I like the idea much either.”

“…Think we should give her a friendly reminder who’s in charge?”

“…After classes let out. Might as well give her _some_ time to breathe.”

 

* * *

 

 **A/N:** YeahTheyWereABitOOCWeren’tThey? Still working on figuring them out. They both, like…mind-fuck me as characters sometimes. I wish I knew more about them. Just gonna cross my fingers and hope V5 provides a bit more info.

This was fun, though. I won’t even deny that I _adore_ those two. They’re both amazing. Emerald’s gorgeous. Mercury’s gorgeous. I’m in love with them. Hardcore, “Marry me and make murderous thief babies with me,” love.

Side note—first story crossed off the list. _Woo!_ That’s a nice feeling, not gonna lie. Next one is a Jaune x (F) Reader, which _should_ be done in the next couple of days. Just gotta wrap up my final draft for it.

 

 **Disclaimer:** Perhaps for the best, I do not have any ownership over RWBY. Nor do I own you. I do, however, own this story and will not take kindly to those that steal or copy it.

**Comments and kudos always ensure a smile on my face!**


	3. A Break in the Storm [Scarlet David/(F) Reader]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scarlet’s never been much for the whole “damsel in distress” role, but—in the midst of what’s turning out to be one of Vale’s greatest tragedies—he couldn’t think of a better Princess Charming than you. 
> 
> Especially when, in the heart of a crisis, you can somehow make everything a little brighter.

**Prompt:** If you’re interested, would you mind writing a Scarlet David x female Reader where the two have become pretty good friends since the Vytal Festival, and then Reader saves Scarlet’s life during the Battle of Beacon?

**Relationship: (F) Reader/Scarlet David**

**Rating: TEEN for mild violence (against Grimm), injuries, mild language, a gloomy atmosphere (let’s face it, 90% of us cried at some point during the Fall of Beacon), and some lighter, fluffier, flirty moments.**

**Word Count:  2749**

 

* * *

 

 

**Chapter 3: A Break in the Storm — [Scarlet David x Reader]**

_Reader_

The Ursa’s claws snagged on your clothes as you rolled out of the way. It only left a small tear in the fabric, but you silently reprimanded yourself for your sloppiness. As you lifted yours arms to fire off a few more rounds into the monster’s fur, though, you became more aware of your body’s growing exhaustion. Lazy moves couldn’t be helped in this state, but it was more than a little ridiculous that simply pulling a trigger could have your arms aching in protest.

The ground shook as the Ursa collapsed, and you didn’t withhold your sigh of relief as it began dissolving into black mist. Another one down, though it scarcely made a difference. Still, it was one less monster directly attempting to rip you in half.

You staggered back to your feet, fighting off the wave of fatigue that urged you to stay down.

You weren’t sure how long the fight had lasted at this point, but it was beginning to take its toll. For all the Grimm and hacked Atlesian Knights you’d cut down, there were always more ready to surge forward and take the place of the deceased. You didn’t have the chance to catch your breath. You weren’t sure you’d be able to afford it, unless you were willing to pay with your life.

You were outnumbered, and it was painfully obvious. Even with all of Beacon’s students, the 24 transfer teams from Vacuo, Mistral, and Atlas, _and_ General Ironwood’s soldiers…it was useless. The Grimm would take Beacon, and you were sure everyone was beginning to reach that realization.

It had become apparent to you, at least, ever since the latest Grimm’s appearance. It was large enough to dwarf the Nevermore it shared the skies with, its shadow sweeping across the ground like a phantom, and had the ability to spawn even more Grimm from its body. With it, there would be no ending the waves of monsters that threatened to destroy Beacon Academy.

At this point, you were only stalling something that was inevitable. Beacon would fall, and there was nothing that could be done.

Not that anyone was ready to give up. Every single student, huntsman, and soldier would fight until _ordered_ to stop.

Your gaze shifted around the courtyard, looking for the next opponent. None had made it to you yet. With so many other students engaging the monsters around you, getting to you wouldn’t be as easy as it had been before.

You decided against interfering in anyone else’s fight. Everyone was holding their own, and the courtyard was relatively controlled for the time being. You began charging down the path toward the landing docks instead. You’d heard of White Fang soldiers bringing more Grimm to the school grounds with airships. Maybe it was time you gathered up your teammates and put an end to that. It might make _some_ sort of difference, at least.

A shout distracted you, loud, frustrated, and laced with the worst curses it could manage. An Beowolf’s snarl cut over it, only for the voice to give a fairly fierce snarl back.

You paused and looked back. You’d recognize that accent and coarse language anywhere.

Scarlet, thankfully, was never all that difficult to spot. With the hair to match his name and an attitude that could make an Ursa turn tail and run, he was fairly easy to pick out in the chaos.

Next to the building that Professor Goodwitch’s class had been held in, he was subduing a Beowolf. Despite being separated from his team like you, he didn’t seem to be having any trouble. The monster was face first to the ground, and Scarlet held it there by pressing his boot to one of its spines. Its claws carved into the pavement below, though with less and less ferocity as the seconds passed.

Scarlet was strangling it by the cord hidden in his gun, green eyes blazing hatred. Likely due to the claw marks in his shirt and bandana. He always had hated looking anything less than his best. He wouldn’t take kindly to a monster that had ruined his clothes.

As soon as it fell still and faded into nothing, though, two others of the Beowolf’s pack began charging toward him. One was killed, Scarlet snapping to attention the moment it jumped and carving his sword along its exposed underbelly. The other snarled in irritation and knocked its dying packmate aside, throwing itself forward instead.

This time, Scarlet didn’t move quickly enough. Not before the monster’s jaws closed around his shoulder and threw him to the ground.

“Scarlet!” you shouted over his own cry of pain.

If he heard you, he didn’t make a sign.

You ran forward, pistols up and fingers snapping to the triggers. One shot to the side made the Beowolf recoil from Scarlet and bare bloodied fangs. A shot at its shoulder made it give a howl of pain. A third shattered its mask and struck between glowing red eyes. It collapsed and began fading away.

You bolted toward Scarlet, falling to your knees next to him. His shoulder had nearly been torn to ribbons, and he was fiercely biting at his lip to withhold any screaming. You decided against asking if he was okay. He obviously wasn’t.

“I’m _really_ n-not sure if I’m okay with you seeing me li-like this,” he gasped out, a shudder rippling through his body.

“We’ve already discussed that you don’t _always_ have to look perfect, right?” you retorted absently.

He groaned, head tilting back against the pavement. Whatever screams he wanted to make came out in the form of hissed-out swears. It seemed to help him cope.

“How badly does it hurt?”

The look he gave you was almost hateful, and he took a deep breath to calm himself as soon as he realized it. “I want to rip my own arm off,” he gritted out. “For gods’ sakes, those _fucking Grimm—_ ”

“Let me do something,” you interrupted.

“It won’t _help_ —”

“But it _will_ make it easier to endure. Besides, the Grimm are going to think of you as some kind of dessert if you’re in this much pain.”

You reached forward without his consent, but he didn’t voice a complaint against it this time. Not until your fingertips gently touched the edges of torn, bloodied skin. He gritted out another curse, and you cast him a brief glance before activating your Semblance.

It was easy to tell when he stopped hurting. His expression changed from agony to confusion, and then exhaustion and relief. When your Semblance had come into full effect, he slumped back and released the tension from his body with a groan.

Unsafe as it might’ve been, you gave a prod at the exposed flesh. He didn’t even flinch. You weren’t sure he was even aware you’d touched him at all.

“I stand corrected. That _is_ helpful,” he breathed, closing his eyes.

“Better?”

“Much.”

You allowed yourself a small smile. “Come on. I’ll help you get to safety. I’m sure they’ll have medics stationed nearby.”

Scarlet’s eyes snapped open, and he gave you a mild glare. “I’m not leaving the fight,” he said stubbornly.

You gave him a stern look in return. “It might not hurt, but it’s still a _heavily_ bleeding open wound,” you scolded. “Treatment’s important, and you’ll be begging for a medic once my Semblance wears off. If you don’t accidentally bleed out first, that is.”

He pushed himself up on his uninjured arm, looking at his shoulder with a grimace. Even he had to acknowledge that it was a wreck. It’d result in his death if he didn’t do something about it while he had the chance.

“…Fine,” he relented, a tad bitterly. “They’re supposed to be setting up an evacuation zone at the docks soon.”

You blinked. “What about the White Fang?”

“Sun said that he spotted them running off. They turned tail not long after the…” he paused, gesturing upwards vaguely.

 _The dragon,_ you guessed, glancing up at the sky.

You got up, cautiously helping your friend to his own feet. “Let’s get going.”

 

_Omniscient_

Once the evacuation was set in motion, your teammates were the first ones you checked up on. It was only after they’d thoroughly assured you that they were fine that you dared return to Scarlet’s side. With such a nasty injury on his hands, you wanted to be certain that he was alright as well.

You found him sitting afar from the landing docks with Neptune, near enough to the edge that they could look over the city beyond. You wondered what the situation was there. Beacon was obviously the epicenter of the Grimm attack, but they would be drawn to anywhere that people were afraid. With Beacon’s downfall being broadcast live, the entire city had to be shaking in its boots. The fear would lure in plenty of monsters.

“Hey,” you said softly, sitting next to Scarlet.

He didn’t look up. “How is your team doing?”

“They all made it here safe,” you said. “Yours?”

“Sun got here a while ago with Blake and Yang. Sage was already working with the medics. Neptune just arrived,” he said, glancing to his teammate. “Pretty sure everyone’s fine.”

“Little battered and bruised, but no worse than anyone else,” Neptune offered. “I think I got off pretty easily.”

You glanced at him, taking a quick assessment of his condition. He held himself awkwardly, sitting with one leg outstretched and tensed. Something had happened to it, and you had to give him credit for not showing how much it hurt.

You reached out, brushing your fingertips against Neptune’s shoulder and activating your Semblance. He blinked momentarily in surprise, then relaxed with a quiet sigh. Scarlet’s lips twitched into a faint smile, and he gave you a look of gratitude. You hadn’t been the only one to notice Neptune was hurt, it seemed.

“Thanks,” the bluenette murmured. “That’s a pretty neat ability.”  

“It has its uses,” you agreed. “Still, go find a medic soon.”

“Right,” he said, getting up. “I’ll go see if Sage is free. Be back in a bit, Scar.”

“Take your time.”

You watched Neptune walk off, then looked back to Scarlet.

“Thank you for helping him,” he said, giving you a smile. “I was worried I’d have to kick aside his pride and call him out for faking it soon. It was sweet of you to step in.”

You managed a smile of your own, looking away. “It was nothing,” you said sheepishly, then paused and turned back to him. “What about your shoulder?”

You couldn’t see how it was at the moment. He’d hidden it under his coat this time around, but he lifted it to show he still couldn’t feel the pain.

“Sage stopped the bleeding and wrapped it up for me,” he explained. “It should be fine, he said. Now all I need to worry about it scarring.”

“Hey, some people think scars are pretty sexy,” you offered.

He cracked another smile. “Is that your way of hitting on me?”

A short, nervous laugh left you, and you rubbed at the back of your neck. You could feel the heat creeping up along it. A more recent development that had begun about a week ago, since a sparring session before the fights had gotten a little more intimate than anticipated.

Not by much, of course, but…enough to have your face burning every time you recalled it.

Scarlet’s smile only grew as he watched you. The way you blushed was near irresistible. Funny, the way you could go from a fearless warrior saving lives one moment, then turn into a meek, tentative schoolgirl the next. It was downright precious, and always gave him a pleasant sense of warmth in his chest to witness.

It was definitely a wonderful change from the “doom and gloom” atmosphere that had previously threatened to suffocate him.

He leaned back against his uninjured arm, looking out over the night sky. Nevermore and Griffons had been dominating it previously, but the General’s airships had started keeping them at bay. From the landing docks, at least.

“I didn’t tell you thanks for saving my life,” he noted.

You looked back at him, then smiled. “Well, I couldn’t just stand there and let someone I care about become a Beowolf chew toy, could I?”

“My knight in shining armor,” he joked.

You giggled, and couldn’t help the quip you gave in return. “If that’s the case, shouldn’t I be getting a kiss as my reward, princess?”

Your laughter died out when you caught yourself, and that blush returned. Scarlet simply grinned. _Absolutely_ precious.

“ _Well…_ If you really want one…” he trailed off, giving you a wink.

He decided to let you figure out if he was serious or playing, and it seemed you settled on the latter. You managed a sheepish grin of your own, giving his unhurt shoulder a light shove.

“Scarlet!” you chided between flustered giggles.

He smiled, and then decided that there was no resisting the impulse that had been nagging at him for far, far too long now. He reached forward and took one of your hands in his, using it to tug you a little closer so that he could meet you halfway.

The kiss startled the laughter right out of you, and you lapsed into wide-eyed silence from the second his lips touched yours.

How many times had you thought about this? How many times, as the days went by and you grew more attached, had you fantasized about him in a more romantic light? How many times had you dared hope, even with all his admirers, that he might feel the same toward you?

He tasted like cherries, you noted, and his lips were so wonderfully soft and welcoming as they pressed to yours. Far better than anything your imagination could’ve conjured up. You couldn't resist letting your eyes drift shut. You couldn't help kissing him back. You couldn't ignore the sense of warmth and comfort that flooded your body when you did.

He was perfect. Surely _far_ too good for you if a simple kiss could make you feel this way.

How you would've laughed if you'd known he thought the very same about you.

When he pulled away, your face felt hot. It was surely as red as his hair, but he didn't seem bothered. A soft laugh fell from his lips, accompanied by the most admiring smile you'd ever seen.

"There's your reward," he hummed.

You stared at him in stunned silence a few seconds longer before kicking back into gear. You grinned. "I should save your life more often."

"Greedy," he chided playfully.

You laughed, turning your head away to hide your ever-intensifying blush. You were almost thankful to have Sage interrupt. Scarlet was turning you into a bit of a mess, and you still felt dizzy from the kiss.

"(Y/N), can I borrow you for a moment?"

You glanced up at Sage, blinking. "What for?"

"There are a lot of people in bad shape," he explained. "I was hoping you could help out with your Semblance."

"Oh, sure," you said. "Absolutely."

You glanced over at Scarlet, putting on a faint smile. There was no helping it now. You couldn't look at him without blushing all over again. How weak you were.

"I'll see you soon," he said. "I'll find you in Vale."

You nodded, then started to get to your feet. With a brief thought of, "To hell with it," you paused and turned back to him. It only took a moment to snatch a kiss from Scarlet, leaving him looking pleasantly surprised, and then you bolted toward Sage.

Folding your hands behind your back and walking along him quietly, you tossed Scarlet a smile over your shoulder. He returned it, and you left with that warmth running through your veins. For all the Grimm running rampant and wounded students around you, you really didn't think you could've felt happier in that moment.

"...Not surprised?" you asked, peeking up at Sage.

You saw the faintest of smiles tug at his lips. "Nah. Neptune said he had a feeling something was going to happen. We were watching."

"Do I get a lecture on how I'd better be good to him?"

You nearly squeaked in alarm when a hand came down to ruffle your hair, making it even more disheveled than the Grimm ever had.

"I have faith in you," he decided.  

 

* * *

 

 

 **A/N:** This was satisfying to write. Truth be told, I'd fully intended to slip in a Scarlet x Reader chapter at some point. The only problem was that I couldn't think of an idea, so you can imagine how psyched I was to get this request.

Really, that's why this entire thing exists. I'm constantly in need of ideas to write for RWBY because it's all I ever want to write for anymore. I just have a hard time thinking of what I should do, y'know?

While we're on that note...I've written a Scarlet x Reader chapter, I have the Neptune x Reader x Sun series (check that out if you haven’t already) ...All I need now is Sage.

Someone gimme a prompt for him. Quick. I feel the urge to complete the set.

Oh, and—next request on the list is a Whitley x Faunus! Reader, which I'm _super_ excited for. IDK if it'll be the next thing posted, though. I was given more to work with than the requester probably knows (plus Whitley’s my _baby_ ), so I'm going all-out and it's _awesome_. Just letting you know it's—…upcoming.

 

 **Disclaimer:** Perhaps for the best, I do not have any ownership over RWBY. Nor do I own you. I do, however, own this story and will not take kindly to those that steal or copy it.

**Kudos are love, comments are life!**


	4. Short Struggles [Neopolitan x (F) Reader]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For all the confidence she presents, even Neo is subject to self-consciousness. It’s a good thing that she has you to constantly reassure her that she’s perfection incarnate. Even if she is a shortstack.
> 
> (Note: Seeing as the fandom’s sorta half-and-half on who does and doesn’t follow this headcanon, I wanna clarify that she is mute in this story.)

**Prompt:** None! This is self-indulgent and the product of a dream I had where I was dating Neo and promised to do her make-up. Even though that is _way_ off from this story’s plot.

**Relationship: (F) Reader/Neopolitan**

**Rating: TEEN for mentioned violence, blood, as well as nudity and, like, shower cuddling. No _truly_ sexual content, though—just fluff.**

**Word Count: 1909**

* * *

 

**Chapter 4: Short Struggles — [Neopolitan x Reader]**

_Reader_

When Neo returned to the hideout, she was covered head-to-toe in blood. It soaked through her clothes, dyed her hair, and painted her skin. All in the same dark, ominous scarlet hue.

None of it was hers, and you knew that automatically. She was a perfectionist in a fight. It took a lot for anyone to land a blow on her—much less actually break her Aura and manage to give her a real injury.

Besides, you were used to her coming home with a few blood-stains here and there. Even then, this was overkill. She wasn’t typically so messy in her assassinations. Her unique style of murder was an art. She didn’t recklessly slice, dice, and tear her opponents to ribbons like some people.

“What happened to you?” you asked, closing your Scroll. “You’re a mess, sweetheart.”

She didn’t answer you. She didn’t even look at you, kicking the door shut behind her and tossing her parasol to the side. Her heels were loud against the floor as she stalked past, discarding her clothes as she went. A moment later, she slammed the bathroom door shut with uncalled for ferocity.

That was…unusual.

You got up from the bed, frowning. “Neo, you okay?”

You didn’t receive a verbal response, of course, but her total ignorance of you was answer enough. You heard the sound of running water as she turned the shower on, and then you sighed. No, she was telling you. She definitely wasn’t okay.

 _Why not, though?_ You thought.

It was rare for Neo to return from a kill _unhappy._ She enjoyed her job (which might’ve been disconcerting if you weren’t in a similar line of business) and regarded it as its own stress relief. By the time she’d finished off whoever Roman or Cinder decided needed to be dealt with, she was usually in a pleasant mood. She’d return home with her head held high, report that she’d done as told, then find you, crawl into your lap, and greet you with a blood-stained kiss.

This sort of behavior was _weird._

You knocked on the bathroom door, still receiving no answer. She wasn’t angry with you, at least. If she was, she would’ve thrown something to chase you off. When your girlfriend wanted to be left alone, she always made it clear.

You twisted the knob and pushed the door open. The fact that it wasn’t locked was also a good sign. She wouldn’t turn you down if you approached her.

“Neo?” you called out.

No response, but you could see her silhouette against the shower curtain, furiously scrubbing at the blood on her skin. You closed the door behind you and crossed the bathroom. She didn’t complain when you nudged the curtain aside, just enough to look at her.

Bicolored eyes turned to look at you in return, and you blinked in surprise. They were red and puffy, and tears mingled with the water that ran down her face. Angry tears, you realized. She was frustrated and mad, not sad.

“…Do you mind if I join you?” you asked gently.

She paused, then sighed softly and looked away. You leaned forward to kiss her cheek, then stepped back to discard your clothes. It only took you a moment to undress, then you stepped into the shower and drew the curtain closed.

Your arms circled around Neo’s waist, holding her back to your chest. The top of her head barely reached your shoulder. She was tiny in your arms, deceptively giving the impression that she was fragile. It was something that misled plenty of people.

“So, do you want to talk?” you asked, nuzzling her wet hair affectionately.

She remained unresponsive, leaning her head back against your chest with a soft sigh. The signs of her crying were fading. She only looked bitter and annoyed now.

“Tell me what happened,” you urged. “Tell me who upset you and I’ll kill them.”

Neo snorted softly, setting aside the washcloth in her hand to give a few gestures. Sign language was her alternative if she couldn’t communicate with her Scroll at the time. While you couldn’t be considered fluent yet, you understood enough to read what she’d signaled.

_I already killed them._

You weren’t surprised. “Who was it?”

_Adam’s men. The White Fang._

“Since when do they interact with you? They won’t even talk to Roman if they can help it,” you murmured, dipping down to kiss her shoulder. “Did you provoke them?”

_Not this time._

You smiled. “Points for honesty.”

_They got on my nerves, though. They were saying things._

“Like?”

_It was about my size._

“Neo, you’re the _perfect_ size,” you assured her.

She sighed heavily, then turned to face you. She had to look up, and you had to look down. There was no ignoring that, yes, she was _incredibly_ short. Even with you, the difference was clearly pronounced.

 _I’m short,_ she signed.

“I never noticed,” you said dryly, then raised a hand to pinch her cheek playfully. “I know you are, and it’s _adorable._ ”

She batted your hand away, clearly unamused. You frowned in return. She wasn’t in the mood to play around, it seemed. Time to be serious.

You stepped back from her, sitting down and making yourself comfortable on the shower floor. You reached up and took Neo’s hand in yours, tugging her down to your level next. She sat down in front of you, drawing her knees up to her chest with a frown. The water fell over you both like warm rain, relaxing, comforting, and soothing the aches of the day.

 _I don’t want to be adorable,_ she told you, expression firm. _I don’t like hearing the jokes and comments. The White Fang picks on me. Emerald and Mercury pick on me. I want to hurt them all for it, but I can’t._

 _Because two out of three of those options might just give you a run for your money,_ you thought. _And Cinder might burn you alive no matter which you went for. But…_

Your eyes wandered over her body, watching where water washed away the blood on her skin. It changed colors as it went, disappearing down the drain in pink swirls.

“That clearly didn’t stop you today,” you noted.

_I got mad._

“I understand,” you assured. “I’m not saying it’s right that you did it, but I still understand.”

 _I know I shouldn’t have, but I did warn them. They knew it would happen. Adam can bite me. Cinder can screw off. They earned it,_ she said icily, giving an annoyed huff.

You smiled. “You really are pissed, huh?”

_Very._

“Hate being short that much?”

_My neck always hurts from looking up. I practically need a stepstool to kiss you. People won’t take me seriously until I’ve got a knife in their chest. I’ve heard every single short joke in existence at least a hundred times over. I still get mistaken for a kid when I go out. It’s awful._

“Roman never picks on you,” you reminded her. “And he’s taller than anyone else in the building. Y’know…minus Adam’s chainsaw-toting boyfriend, or whatever.”

_That’s different. He doesn’t count._

You sighed. She wasn’t wrong. Roman and her had a history that you didn’t even know the half of. They’d been through plenty together, and Roman knew her better than you ever would. And he knew from experience that a pissed-off Neopolitan meant only the worst possible outcomes for whoever had crossed her.

“Alright, he might not count for much here,” you relented. “Why should you care what a few pawns and foot soldiers think, though? The White Fang’s only a bunch of well-trained dogs. We give them guns, tell them who to kill, what to steal, and then pat them on the head to make them think they’ve done something important. Their opinions shouldn’t mean anything to you.”

_Still—_

You caught her hands before she could continue, holding her wrists to keep her from signing anything else out.

“They’re unimportant,” you insisted. “Mercury and Emerald are unimportant. Cinder, even, is unimportant. You’re only dealing with them for a few more months, and then that’s that. They’ll be gone forever and we can all forget they ever existed. They. Don’t. Matter. Not to you, not to me, not even to Roman.”

She glared at you, yanking her hands away.

 _I don’t care about them,_ she insisted. _I’m just tired of hearing the same old jokes again and again. They don’t hurt. They’re just annoying._

“It’s alright to admit it when you feel insecure,” you said softly.

_I’m not insecure._

“Why take a few jokes and jabs to heart, then?”

_I told you, I don’t care—_

“Being annoyed is one thing. Being so hurt and mad that you feel the need to kill someone and roll around in their blood is something else.”

She looked at you stubbornly, eyes both brown and dark enough to pass for black. A thorough way to announce her frustration.

“ _Neo._ ”

Your multicolored girlfriend glared at you for a few moments longer, then seemed to wilt. _Fine,_ she signed. _Maybe it’s something other than annoying._

You smiled, reaching forward to circle your arms around her again. You drew her up onto your lap and her legs curled around your waist. Even then, she wasn’t face-to-face with you until you’d leaned back against the shower wall.

“Wanna know what I think of your height?” you asked, fingers brushing the hair from her face.

_I dunno. Do I?_

“I think you’re perfect,” you whispered, lifting your eyes to catch hers.

 _How?_ She demanded, meeting your gaze with stubbornness and frustration.

“You’re tiny enough that I can pick you up and spin you around and kiss you. You’re the best size for cuddling at night. You can’t see over everyone else in a crowd, so it gives me a great excuse to hold your hand when we go out. I can hold you on my lap without worrying about having to see over your head on movie nights,” you listed, resting your hands on her hips.

She pouted, momentarily looking embarrassed.

“You’re flawless, Neo,” you insisted gently. “You can complain about your height all you like and everyone can joke about it however much they want, but you’re _perfect._ Nothing is wrong with you. Being so small is part of your charm. Another thing that’s _perfect_ about you. You’re four-and-a-half feet of fun-sized fury and I _love_ it.

 _And I love_ you, you added in sign language, the very first thing you’d ever asked her to teach you.

She stared at you for a moment, then let her shoulders sag. She leaned forward, burying her face against your breasts with a whine and signaling out, _You’re such a sap._

“I’m _your_ sap, though,” you hummed. “Just like how you’re _my_ shortcake.”

She tried to glare up at you despite it not being very intimidating with the rest of her face smothered in your boobs. If she’d given you that look anywhere else and had been sincere about it, though, you honestly would’ve bolted in the other direction. As it was, you only dipped down to kiss her forehead.

“I love you,” you said again, whispering it softly.

Neo lifted her chin, drawing herself up to slot her lips against yours warmly. You didn’t need to read her actions, sign language, or words on a Scroll to understand what she was saying then.

_I love you, too, (Y/N)._

* * *

 

 **A/N:** Being short actually _is_ a bit of a struggle. Personally, the top shelf is my ultimate nemesis, and that’s coming from a girl barely over five feet. I can’t imagine being Neo’s height. If she wasn’t such a great killer, it seems like it’d be terrifying.

There’s actually a girl in my school that might be even short than Neo without her heels. I don’t think she reaches 4’6”, honestly. Imagine that in a high school hallway. Every time I see her, I feel like I should throw her a ring and scream, “I’ll save you!”

Then again, I’m still lurking behind tall people to survive myself, so—

#SmolStruggles.

In other news—anyone else excited for Neopolitan’s upcoming return in V5? I’m flipping my shit, personally. Fingers crossed for her, ABRN, Adam, and, naturally, the rest of team SSSN.

 

 **Disclaimer:** Perhaps for the best, I do not have any ownership over RWBY. Nor do I own you. I do, however, own this story and will not take kindly to those that steal or copy it.

**Comments and kudos are my motivation to crawl out of bed in the mornings!**


	5. A Price on Life [Whitley Schnee/(F) Reader]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Coming from Mantle’s streets, you’d never imagined you’d be living a life like this. Extravagance, luxury, and anything you could ever want—and all you have to do is protect one little spoiled rich boy.
> 
> It’s not a bad deal, if you say so yourself. Especially not when, despite all appearances, Whitley isn’t nearly as bad as he appears. He’s…actually got some good in him, even if he tries so hard to hide it.
> 
> (Note: Only posted, like, part of the prompt ‘cos spoilers. And, just the same, only part of the story has been posted because I felt super, super bad about this taking so long, but I got so eager than I’m practically writing a novel at this point. It’ll be finished before long, so check back in a 2-5 days for the rest.)
> 
> (Side Note: Infinite bonus points to anyone who recognizes the names and traits of three of the four Faunus’ that Reader’s mentioned being friends with in the beginning. If you’re from the Fullmetal Alchemist fandom, you might know it.)

**Prompt:** Reader was living in the slums of Mantle until a chance encounter with Whitley. Now she is his personal attendant and bodyguard…

 

**Relationship: (F) Reader/Whitley Schnee**

 

**Rating: TEEN (for now, will update when story's finished.)**

 

**Word Count: (Will update when story's finished.)**

 

 

* * *

 

**Chapter 5: A Price on Life — [Whitley Schnee x Reader]**

 

_Reader_

 

Some people liked to call Mantle the “City of Dreams.”

 

You supposed that, from an outsider’s point of view, it might’ve truly looked that way. The glittering lights, elegant architecture, a population that only seemed to consist of the rich and attractive…The city’s beauty was almost surreal to anyone so unused to it, so caught in the glamour that their eyes had no issues omitting the uglier sights it offered. Not when there was so much else to admire in Atlas’ most renowned city.

 

It was too easy for people to forget that Mantle, like any settlement, had its fair share of outcasts, strays, and dangerous territory.

 

Of course, that part of the city was what was most familiar to you. With a city ruled by the wealthy, those that scorned the people they deemed lesser and had the influence to ensure others felt the same, the rabbit ears atop your head branded you as a “freak” from the moment of your birth. Your Faunus heritage distanced you from the finer members of Mantle’s society, made sure you were unwelcome in all but the shadiest of establishments, and didn’t permit you to call all but the more unsavory parts of the city “home.”

 

Knowing nothing more than that, though, you were content. You’d never been given a taste of the better life, and you never wanted it. Not while you knew to be happy with what you _did_ have.

 

Besides, you weren’t _alone_ in your social exile. Others shared your predicament, young and old, Faunus and human alike, and it was those companionships that made things more bearable. Maybe even enjoyable.

 

No, it wasn’t perfect, but it was the life you led. And you were far better off than the people who ran Mantle from the shadows. Those who lived their lives in gluttony, always starved for more money, more power, never able to be content with the blessings they’d already been giving. You never wanted that life.

 

“(Y/N)?”

 

You glanced up from the stone wall across from you, turning to the side. “Hm? What is it?” you asked, blinking away your daze.

 

“Spacing out again. Gods, it’s impossible to keep your attention, isn’t it?”

 

Despite his exasperation, your companion’s grin returned only a moment later. It showed off rows of cramped, pointed shark teeth, something that frightened off most people. For a good reason, too. Last time he’d gotten into a fight, you’d had the luxury of seeing the kind of damage he could inflict with them.

 

It had earned him the nickname “Jaws” when he was younger, though he’d always insisted on his usual “Aaron.” Despite the jokes, however, the man had a good personality. You’d been able to call him your friend for years now. He was someone that you could count on.

 

“Sorry,” you said. “What were we talking about?”

 

“Martel. She’s still missing,” another voice mumbled.

 

You looked back across the alley to Dorchet, a dog Faunus with folded black-and-white ears. He was sitting back against the wall, looking more than a little downcast. He’d had the same sad puppy look for nearly a week now. Ever since Martel, a snake Faunus he’d known for years now, had gone missing without a trace.

 

After so much time had passed, he was still the only one holding out on the hope that she would be alive.

 

Sad as it was, Faunus’ went missing every day. Mantle loved her upper-class citizens, but she wouldn’t bat an eye if those lower than the lower-class were dragged behind an alley and shot. As years went by, you’d come to accept that reality as easily as everyone else. You simply focused on making sure you never suffered that kind of fate, and that you would go down with one hell of a fight if you ever did.

 

“You’re going to have to move on eventually. Maybe she’s dead.”

 

Dorchet snarled warningly at the Faunus next to him, a massive man with bull horns. Loa was another friend of his, but there was an undeniable tension between them now. Loa understood that, as Faunus’, sometime things just _happened._ Dorchet wasn’t ready to come to terms with it yet.

 

“He’s right,” you murmured. “The humans…We don’t _mean_ anything to them. They’d kill us all if they thought they could get away with it.”

 

The dog lifted his head defiantly. “Let them try.”

 

Aaron snorted, glancing to the side. “Well, _this_ is a pleasant topic.”

 

You sighed, drawing your knees up to your chest. “Yeah, I’d honestly rather talk about something else. If she turns up, that’s great. If not—”

 

“Hey, guys!”

 

You glanced up, peeking down the alleyway. An antlered Faunus was waving your group over with urgency. A friend of Aaron’s, you were pretty sure.

 

“What’s up?” your friend called out.

 

“Someone’s here—someone _big,_ by the looks of it!”

 

There were some exchanged looks among your group, expressions of boredom, curiosity, or disinterest. You were the first to get up, deciding with a shrug that this was better than debating whether or not one of your friends was dead.

 

The others trailed after you, following you to the mouth of the alley. It opened up to a small circle of shady stories and pubs. Places where, for once, Faunus’ were more welcome than humans, and definitely much safer. It wasn’t Faunus’ that had come to visit, though. You knew it from the moment your eyes landed on the limo. White, shiny, not a speck of dust on it. No Faunus in Mantle would be allowed _near_ such a thing.

 

You narrowed your eyes. The area was mostly dominated by the White Fang. No human in their right mind would dare step foot here.

 

You stepped back, and the rest of the group did as well. It kept you all concealed around the corner, able to watch without being noticed. Hidden as you were, it was difficult to stifle your gasp of surprise when the newcomers finally stepped out from their car.

 

There was no possible way to mistake who they were. Not once you saw the white hair, the vividly blue eyes. They were _Schnees,_ Atlas' most well-known family, owners of the Schnee Dust Company. They were famous for plenty of reasons, but the first thing that came to your mind was their…less-than-kind behavior toward the Faunus' they employed.

 

It was no surprise to hear the sounds of unrest rippling through the group at the sight of them. You weren't the only one that felt uneasy toward them.

 

Out of the two that had arrived, Jacques was someone you knew well. He was in newspapers often enough, featured on Atlas new channels frequently, renowned in the human and Faunus communities—and not always for the best reasons. You'd recognize him anywhere.

 

You weren't entirely sure of the second, but you were certain he was Jacques' son. You couldn't recall his name, but you were plenty aware that Jacques did have one son—the youngest of his three children. Not far off from your age, you didn't think.

 

"There couldn't have been a better place for this meeting, Father?" the boy complained, eyeing the area with clear disdain. "It's awful here."

 

"The man insists on meeting here, and if we're _ever_ to pacify the White Fang…" Jacques trailed off, grimacing. "I'm no happier than you, Whitley, I assure you."

 

You blinked, following Jacques' gaze as he glanced upwards, to the apartments settled over one rundown, dingy bar. His destination if he was looking for the White Fang. A recruiter lived there. You'd met him when accompanying a friend wanting to join the White Fang's cause, providing moral support despite your personal distaste for the organization.

 

It had only taken a few minutes for you to decide you didn't like the guy. Everything about him made your instincts say, " _Stay away_!" He wasn't someone you'd trust so readily, and if that was what the Schnees were doing…

 

You narrowed your eyes.

 

The White Fang making amends with the Schnees of all people? No, that wasn't right. They would never. Something was wrong, and your rabbit ears twitched with growing anxiety.

 

"Something's up here," Loa whispered.

 

You nodded in agreement, body tensing.

 

Then came the voice. You caught it immediately, someone whispering to their Scroll, speaking to a familiar voice on the other end. The recruiter. Sharp as your rabbit ears were, you caught nearly the entire exchange.

 

"They've arrived, sir."

 

_"You're prepared?"_

 

"Of course. Anything for the cause."

 

Your nose wrinkled with disgust at that. The way he said it was so…twisted and brainwashed. It was difficult to differentiate the White Fang from any other extremist cult when they spoke like that. _The cause, the cause._ The cause to eradicate and/or suppress humankind and take their places as the ruling species.

 

_"Serve us well. Kill the Schnees."_

 

"Yes, sir!"

 

You heard a click as the soon-to-be assassin hung up, then gasped at the sound of rapid footsteps. Driven by instinct, you leapt into action.

 

He lurched through the window of the apartments, falling down with raining glass shards. His fangs were bared, his claws outstretched, prepared to tear the Schnees to ribbons. The fire in his eyes was the same as any other White Fang extremist, an insatiable bloodlust for humankind that wouldn't be satisfied even if he _did_ kill the Schnees.

 

He never met his targets, though. Not before you flew from your hiding place and lashed out, kicking him forcefully enough to throw him into a brick wall across the street. He hadn't even known to avoid it—you'd caught him off-guard.

 

Jacques Schnee snarled in sudden outrage.

 

"Whitley, in the car!" he snapped. "We're leaving!"

 

You didn't see if they actually were going, but you hoped they were. The other Faunus was already getting back up, looking at you with absolute fury.

 

"You _dare_ protect them?!" he snarled. "What Faunus are you?!"

 

"There's nothing good that can come of hurting them!" you snapped in response.

 

He lunged for you. You ducked one swipe of his claws, but the next caught your left arm and tore through the flesh with ease. You stifled a cry of pain, jamming your shoe into his stomach. He caught your ankle in return, and you briefly feared he might try to break it. He certainly seemed capable of it.

 

Determined to avoid that, you dropped down to your hands, ignoring the stab of pain that raced up your left arm and the blood that trickled down to your fingers. You drew your free leg back and drove the heel of your shoe into his chin, exerting all the strength you had. It was enough to throw him back, shouting in pain. He was reduced to dazed groans when he hit the ground in a heap, momentarily stunned.

 

"Whitley!"

 

You twisted your body, falling into a crouch and finally sparing a glance back at the Schnees. The son looked perfectly calm, observing the fight with quiet fascination.

 

"What are you doing?!" you demanded. "Go! He wants to _kill_ you!"

 

The boy disregarded you, but another shout from his father put him in action. He casted you a brief glance, then began toward the vehicle. You were more than relieved when his father dragged him in and the driver sped off.

 

"You traitor!" the assassin spat out, stumbling to his feet.

 

You lifted your chin, glaring at him fiercely. He didn't attack you again, simply limping toward the recruiter's bar. Conflict ended, you began heading for your own companions, injured and in pain.

 

 

 

_Reader_

 

Two hours later found you in the Mantle police department, waiting to be processed like every other Faunus they'd rounded up.

 

You'd told the assassin that no good could come of killing the Schnees. Bitterly, you thought that not much good had come of saving them, either. With all of their influence, they'd have any Faunus within a mile radius of the incident locked up out of spite.

 

"This _sucks,_ " Dorchet complained, folding his arms across his chest. "Guarantee that none of us are walking out of here."

 

"They can't arrest over fifty Faunus' like this," Loa reasoned.

 

"The Schnees can do anything," someone else muttered dejectedly.

 

You sighed heavily, looking down. They had a point. The situation really wasn't looking good so far, and you certainly didn't want to look forward to serving a prison sentence when you'd actually tried to do the right thing.

 

"Great, here comes another one."

 

You didn't look up. Another Faunus being collected wouldn't be surprising. The station was already crowded with them, the holding cells overstuffed and suffocating—not that any of the officers seemed to care.

 

"If he's here to rub it in, I might kill him myself."

 

"Don't say that with the police everywhere, idiot!"

 

You glanced up in confusion at that, looking over to the rest of the group. Several eyes were trained toward the doorway, and you briefly thought you caught a glimpse of white hair as someone passed. Odd, though you didn't linger on it for long.

 

"Great, here comes one now," another Faunus grumbled as an officer stepped through the doorway.

 

Silence fell over the group, and the man paused on the other side of the bars.

 

"Hey, rabbit girl."

 

You glanced around the holding cell in confusion, though it seemed you were the only rabbit of the group. You were being singled out. You didn't know why, but you'd learned long ago not to get your hopes up.

 

 _Always expect the worst and you'll always be pleasantly surprised._ Wise words.

 

"It's (Y/N), actually," you mumbled, looking back to the officer.

 

He rolled his eyes in response, unlocking the door to the holding cell. "(Y/N), then. Come with me. Someone's here to see you."

 

Slowly, you got up from the floor and walked out of the cell. Sympathetic glances were given to you as you were led away, and you tried to ignore the way your stomach twisted with unease. You would've preferred the cell over this.

 

You were guided through the station in silence, no one breathing a word to you or even sparing you a second glance. You weren't sure if that was a good or bad sign, but you decided against asking any questions. Best to keep your mouth shut and cooperate as much as possible.

 

The officer paused only when you'd reached the interrogation room, pulling the door open and gesturing for you to go in. Cautiously, you obeyed—only to freeze when you saw who was waiting for you.

 

Sitting at one side of the table was _him._ The younger Schnee from earlier. Whitley, if you remembered correctly.

 

What could _he_ possibly want with you?!

 

You jumped at the sound of the door being shut behind you, and you glanced back nervously to find that the officer had left. You were now alone with a _Schnee._ A _Schnee._

 

Oh, there were only a million ways that this could end poorly for you.

 

When you looked back at Whitley, he gave you a smile. His teeth were as white as his hair. "It's good to see you again."

 

You frowned, then sighed softly and sent up a quick prayer. _Please don't let this be some horrible messed-up trick._

 

"What do you want?" you asked finally, voice icier than you'd meant for it to be.

 

"You don't sound particularly pleased to see me. Why?"

 

You raised a brow, recalling your earlier bitterness. "Did you and your father not get us all arrested for no reason? No offense, but I can't say I'm too happy with you right now," you grumbled.

 

"Oh, that was Father's idea," Whitley said, waving a hand dismissively. "Don't worry about it for now. Please, have a seat. I'd like to talk with you."

 

You eyed him warily, then walked over to pull out the chair opposite to him. You sat down, and he leaned forward to rest his chin in the palm of one hand. He was watching you just as closely as you were watching him. He was _assessing_ you, like some kid figuring out if you were the toy he wanted for Christmas.

 

"What's your name?" he asked.

 

"(Y/N)," you responded softly.

 

"(Y/N)," he echoed, testing it out on his tongue. "You know how to fight? Properly, at least?"

 

"A little," you said hesitantly. "It's only a few things I picked up here and there."

 

"You saved our lives earlier, I believe. I can't say I'm much for fighting, and neither is my father. If it hadn't been for you…"

 

"Well…it's not right that he should try to kill you both at all. Not everything needs to be resolved with violence," you said, looking away.

 

"I don't think the White Fang would share such an ideal."

 

"No, they wouldn't. It's sad," you agreed, then turned your eyes back towards him. "Look, you're great to talk to and all, but…I should be with my friends right now. What do you want?"

 

Whitley smiled again. "Not much for conversation?"

 

"At the moment, no."

 

He sat back in his chair, folding his arms across his chest. "Allow me to get to the point, then. I'd like to hire you, (Y/N). As my personal bodyguard."

 

You narrowed your eyes, tilting your head in confusion. _"Why?"_

 

"Because I believe that you're being modest about just how well you can fight," he said. "And I think you have a knack for protecting those in harm's way, don't you?"

 

You remained silent, wary.

 

"It's a job with plenty of benefits," he continued, noting your hesitation. "You'll be paid _very_ well, given a room for yourself, a certain degree of authority over the house staff, and, of course, we'll have any injuries you receive on the job treated by the very best."

 

His gazed turned to your arm, and you rested a hand to it nervously. You'd cleaned the cuts to the best of your ability and managed to haphazardly bandage it before the cops arrived, but it still ached. Blood still threatened to seep through the bandages if you aggravated the wound too much.

 

"…What if I wanted to set a few terms before accepting?" you asked cautiously.

 

"Name it. I'm sure it won't be difficult to get whatever you want."

 

"Call off whatever deal your dad made with the police. Have them release anyone innocent, but arrest anyone _actually guilty._ Point out the assassin, and I can give you the name of the person employing him."

 

Whitley's smile returned. "Very well."

 

 

* * *

 

 **A/N:** Alright. Like I said, only part of the story’s posted. This isn’t entirely everything I’ve written up so far, but it _is_ a decent halfway (well, more like 1/3) mark to leave off on until I’ve got the rest done.

 

The reason for this is because I’m working on temporarily moving out of home _and_ putting a little more effort into schoolwork. So…Internet time’s kinda iffy. Not to mention that I’ve _severely_ neglected the Neptune x Reader x Sun story and still have yet to even get the Roman x Reader story started. So there’s an explanation to everyone if things go a tad slowly.

 

All the same, working my hardest! Check back in a week or so for the rest of this chapter, m’kay? By then I’ll _hopefully_ have it done. I’m _so_ sorry for getting so outta hand with this one, though. XD

 


	6. Flattering, But Frustrating [Blake Belladonna/(F) Reader/Sun Wukong]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For months, you’ve been receiving the same anonymous messages from an unknown admirer. While you can appreciate the romance in mystery, you’re reaching a point of frustration. If they like you so much, why can’t they come out and say it already!?
> 
> (Note: I got off-base with this and I’m so, so sorry. It more or less follows the prompt, but…minus the explicit material. It was in the original draft, but it somehow got left out while I was rewriting. I ended up with this mess instead. It has emotions. Ew.
> 
> Also, assume there’s like, a week or so between the last few skips.)

**Prompt:** (F) Reader receives a series of love letters and little gifts over the period of several months, with said letters and gifts getting more extreme/explicit. (F) Reader confides in Blake and Sun, with Blake not really caring and Sun saying he knows who the Reader’s admirer is without telling her. One day, (F) Reader gets a letter telling her to meet her anonymous admirer in the courtyard. Sun and Blake are there and confess that they’ve both been sending the gifts and letters. Then maybe they ask Reader to go out with them?

**Relationship: Sun Wukong/(F) Reader/Blake Belladonna**

**Rating: TEEN for unexpected angst and heartache mixed with blossoming feelings of love and a gorgeous irony. It ends on a happy note.**

**Word Count: 4295**

* * *

 

**Chapter 6: Flattering, but Frustrating — [Sun Wukong x Reader x Blake Belladonna]**

_Reader_

The first note had come months ago, a while after the new year had begun for Beacon. It had been short, it had been sweet, and, from the shaky handwriting, the sender had been nervous as hell.

_You’re pretty, and I think I like you._

It had been slipped under your dormitory door one morning, found by one of your teammates. There was no signature, and no _real_ indication it had been exclusively for you. For a while, not a single member of your team could know for certain who it was meant for. The same went for the next few letters, all of which had been delivered in the same anonymous fashion.

About a month later was when the truth had been discovered. Your admirer had moved on to hiding the letters in your locker, or on your seat in class. That was when it had become clear that _you_ were the object of this person’s affection, and your teammates had gushed endlessly over it for a couple more weeks.

Three months into it came gifts.

First it was jewelry—delicate, shiny things that were simplistic in design and still utterly breathtaking. They might’ve looked ordinary from a distance, but a closer look revealed gorgeous, intricate designs in the metal, and the right lighting would make the gems embedded within glitter and shine.

After that came books, which revealed a bit more of your admirer. They liked mystery, adventure, romance—nearly every genre. Complex plots were what lured them in, and they had a fondness for characters that they could connect with on a deeper level. They shared your tastes more often than not, you’d realized.

At one point, you’d been sent a stuffed kitten. A small black-and-white thing with big blue eyes that _still_ remained situated right next to your pillow. You’d slept with it nearly every night since receiving it, giving thought to your anonymous suitor every time you looked at it.

Four months in, the notes became a bit more elaborate. Detailed letters on how beautiful and wonderful you were that made you smile and blush whenever you read them. Your admirer definitely knew how to flatter a girl, and recalling the notes made you a tad weak at the knees now and then.

Five months later came the texting. Always from a hidden number, but undeniably your suitor. The messages came in sporadically, always commenting on how you looked or something you’d done. They’d tell you how amazing you’d been in Professor Goodwitch’s combat class, how nice your hair looked when it caught the light, how beautiful your laugh sounded when you were talking to your friends, or how cute you looked in your uniform.

Six months later, texting your suitor became the norm. They remained anonymous and hid their Scroll number, but you were finally able to maintain a conversation with them. As much as you would’ve loved to speak face-to-face with them, it was nice being able to finally communicate at all. Most of your day was spent exchanging messages, learning more, and occasionally begging to really meet them, even when they always shot down your request with a nervous, “I’m not sure I’m ready yet.”

Seven months was when you finally started to get annoyed with the secrecy.

“I don’t get it,” you said, maybe for the millionth time. “If they like me, why can’t they just come forward already? They’ll go on and on about how much they want to be with me, but they won’t even _really_ make a move!”

“Maybe they’re shy.”

You glanced over at Blake. She sat with her knees drawn up to her chest, her nose buried in a book as per usual. She hadn’t contributed much to the conversation, aside from brief comments here and there. Her attention didn’t leave her book for long, though. Even now, her eyes were taking in each line of the story.

“Yeah, maybe. I’m getting tired of it, though. The past few months have been great, but…I dunno,” you said, sighing heavily. “I’m ready for _more_.”

“So…what’re you gonna do?”

Sun spoke to you this time and, unlike Blake, had given you his full attention from the very beginning. Even if he’d agreed to spend his free time with you and her in the library, he still wasn’t much for the place. For him, a conversation was better than drowning in a book. Words on a page couldn’t occupy him for longer than a minute.

“Maybe go with a trail of bait and a box propped up with a stick,” you muttered irritably, resting your cheek in the palm of one hand.

“You really wanna know who it is that badly?”

“Yes, I do! Really, this sounds like the best person in the _world_ for me and they obviously go here, too and—and I actually might enjoy some romance in my life for a change,” you whined out. “I don’t even know this person’s _name_ yet, though!”

“Bet I could come up with a few guesses.”

You lifted your chin, narrowing your eyes suspiciously. “You don’t know who it is, do you?”

He shrugged, smiling as innocently as an angel. “I might.”

“…It’s not Neptune, is it?”

The Faunus laughed, shaking his head. “Yeah, no. He’s not much for secrecy. If he’s going to hit on a girl, he’ll do it openly,” he said. “Still, I bet—”

He cut off with a sudden yelp, pouting across the table at Blake.

“Whoever it is that’s after her, it’s not our place to be digging them up,” she said icily. “This is between her and them, and that’s that. We shouldn’t be forcing anyone into anything.”

Sun dropped his pout, crossing his arms. “Alright, but what if this person _is_ too shy to come out?” he argued. “What if they need a little push?”

“And what if they’re waiting to do things on their _own_ time?”

“Doesn’t seem like waiting so much as hesitating. (Y/N)’s obviously game, don’t you think? Why bother to hide anymore?”

“Well, maybe her admirer _will_ come out soon if she’s just patient. I’m sure they’re plenty willing, too, and forcing them won’t achieve anything,” Blake snapped.

You remained silent, looking between the two with a raised brow. Both had each other fixed with scowls of obvious irritation, but you brushed it aside as none of your business. _Lovers’ quarrel,_ you thought jokingly, though you didn’t say it aloud for fear of Blake’s wrath.

“They’ll come through eventually,” Sun promised you suddenly, blue eyes turning to you. “I’ll drag ‘em out myself if I have to. You shouldn’t be left hanging like this.”

“Thanks, Sun, but Blake’s got a point,” you murmuring, sulking with the realization. “I’m eager, yeah, but I shouldn’t rush it. Whenever they’re ready, I’ll be there.”

“It’ll happen soon, you’ll see,” Blake said softly, her voice small. “Just…give them time to work up the nerve.”

 

_Reader_

Going back to your dorm for the night, you were greeted by a small stack of books waiting outside the door for you. Just a few, wrapped with a neat little ribbon and bearing a note that said, _I heard you liked this series, so I figured I might as well loan them to you for a while._

You blinked, picking the books up and looking over the cover curiously. A faint blush settled over your cheeks at the title. Admittedly, the content of these stories wasn’t exactly for all ages, and you’d told few people that you liked them for fear of being picked on.

Still, you weren’t upset by the offering.

You tucked the books under your arm, opening the door and stepping into the room. It was empty, your teammates still gone for the evening.

Hiding your latest present under your bed, you slipped out your Scroll and brought up an older conversation. The messages were scattered over the past days and weeks, going between you and your secret admirer. You couldn’t keep them engaged in a conversation for too long, usually, but they still sent you a daily reminder on how perfect you were.

You brought up the keyboard, sitting back on your bed.

 **You:** How did you know I liked those books? I don’t tell many people about it, y’know.

It took a moment, and then your Scroll buzzed with the arrival of a response. You smiled immediately as it popped up. It was always satisfying when you _could_ lure your admirer into really talking to you.

 **Unknown:** A friend of yours told me.

 **You:** Which one?

 **Unknown:** Don’t worry about it.

An irritated huff escaped you. They were cautious as ever, always careful not to leave any trails to follow. Still, the books had narrowed your options down a little. There were only a handful of people you’d ever shared that dirty little secret with, and you’d be sure to thoroughly interrogate them all later on.

 **You:** You said you’d loan them to me. Does this mean that you’ll actually get them back from me face-to-face?

 **Unknown:** Maybe. We’ll see.

 **You:** I’m not going to be mad about all the letters and everything. I actually like them, and I’d really, really like to meet the person behind it all.

 **Unknown:** You might soon. I’m thinking about it, but I’m still a bit nervous.

 **You:** Why?

 **Unknown:** Because you’re amazing, and sometimes I’m not sure if I really match up.

 **You:** If you think I’m gonna call you “unworthy” just ‘cos you’re anything less than a ten, you don’t know me very well. I’m not going to judge off of looks.

 **Unknown:** It’s not just that. It’s complicated. There’s more to it than looks.

You sighed heavily, flopping back against your pillows and staring up at your screen almost sadly. Still no progress on meeting up, then. You’d have to try another time, another day. Maybe _then_ you could finally start returning all of the affection that this person gave you already.

 **You:** I was talking with you about some friends of mine. One thinks you’re shy. One thinks you should hurry up and come out.

 **Unknown:** And which do you agree with?

 **You:** Both. I want to meet you already, that’s for certain. At the same time, though…Guess I shouldn’t try and force you into anything yet, right? If you’re nervous, that’s the end of it. Not much I can do about it when I don’t even know your name.

 **Unknown:** Thank you for that, (Y/N).

You rolled over onto your stomach, a smile curling your lips as you continued to type.

 **You:** I’d really love to introduce you to them sometime. I think you’d like them, and I bet they’d like you, too.

 **Unknown:** …What are they like?

 **You:** Well, Sun’s absolutely wonderful. He’s really sweet and has the biggest heart in the world. Sometimes he’s a bit goofy, but it’s just part of his charm.

 **Unknown:** He does sound pretty great. What about the other one?

 **You:** Blake. She’s amazing, too, to be honest. She’s kinda moody and kinda quiet, but you can still count on her, you know? She’s there when you need her. She’s a good friend, and I seriously adore her.

 **Unknown:** Sounds like you’ve got a crush.

You blinked, a blush creeping across your face. A nervous smile made its way to your lips, and you decided that your admirer wasn’t _wrong._ That had been a while ago, though, and you’d long since gotten over it.

 **You:** Maybe once, but…I’m kinda waiting on you, y’know?

 **Unknown:** I see…

 

_Reader_

“I’m going to die if this keeps up.”

Your voice was miserable and sad, obviously upset. Sun rubbed your back gently, and Blake was kind enough to offer her lap as a pillow. Trust them to be there when you needed comfort, like you did now.

It was hard, this ordeal with your admirer. Every love letter made you fall more and more, and not being able to actually have the person that was giving you these feelings was… _painful,_ really. You’d never tell them that, of course, because you _knew_ it wasn’t their intention, but…oh, it was awful.

The perfect person was courting you, and yet they were the same person keeping you from accepting.

“You’ll be fine,” Blake said, petting your hair.

“Look at her, though,” Sun argued, tail slapping against the sheets in frustration. “She’s heartbroken, and whose fault is that?”

“It’s not _anyone’s_ fault,” you protested weakly. “They’re not doing it on purpose, and I don’t want to upset them by saying anything. I just…I really like them. I know it sounds dumb, and I know it might be stupid, but…I’m already in love, and I _know_ they’re shy and I _know_ they’re scared that I might not actually feel that way, but…”

You sighed and sat up, brushing the hair from your face and wiping at your eyes. Another sniffle left you, and you lowered your gaze back to your bed.

“I wish I could tell them— _really_ tell them—that I do feel that way, and that I do like them back. I want to do whatever it takes to convince them that there’s no reason to be shy around me,” you said softly. “That they’re already perfect to me, and nothing’s gonna change that.”

“They’re really lucky, know that?” Sun murmured, resting a hand on your shoulder. “They’ll realize it before long. Won’t they, Blake?”

The girl glanced to him, then you, then down to the sheets. “Yeah,” she said quietly. “Soon.”

“Maybe, but…I almost want to give up,” you whispered. “I’m not sure if I can take it anymore.”

 

_Reader_

**You:** This is going to sound bad, but I think it’s necessary.

 **You:** I like you a lot, and I can’t state that enough. Not because you tell me I’m pretty, not because you buy me things, but because you genuinely are a good person. I’ve never seen your face, I don’t know your name, but I know that much. As amazing as you say I am, I think you’re even more so.

 **You:** I want to meet, and you want to, too. You’re scared, though, and I don’t know what else to do but say, “It’s okay,” again and again.

 **You:** It’s gone on for too long, though. I’m attached to you, and I’ll admit it. The anonymity, though. It’s starting to hurt.

 **You:** I’m not sure I can do this anymore. It’s been nice. The messages, the presents, the conversations. You’re great, and I _really_ wish we could’ve taken this further, but it’s clear that you can’t.

 **You:** Until you’re really, really ready, don’t message me again. I’m sorry.

You reread your messages again and again, feeling the guilt weigh you down more and more. You’d gotten the confirmation that it’d been read, but there was no text from your admirer in return. Granted, you’d said not to contact you again, but…

You’d kinda hoped for a, “No, wait—I’ll do it,” response.

Maybe it was for the best that you didn’t get one, though. You couldn’t take any more of the waiting and longing. This was just the first step to moving on, and you already knew the next.

You closed out the conversation, dialing a number. Sun picked up after a few rings, sounding as miserable as you felt. Sage must’ve been cornering him into studying again, you supposed.

 _“(Y/N)? What is it?”_ he mumbled.

“Hey…are you and Blake up to go out with me for a while?” you asked softly. “I…I need some friends around.”

_“Are you alright?”_

“Yeah, I just…I called things off with you-know-who,” you confessed weakly. “I’m not feeling too good.”

_“Gimme a few minutes. I’ll go get Blake.”_

 

_Reader_

“You’re missing the complete point of it, Sun! He sacrificed himself because he _loved_ her.”

“I think you’re missing that there is no point aside from the creators wanting an excuse to rip the viewer’s heart out and smash it into the ground. He could’ve fit there with her. He didn’t _have_ to die.”

“Maybe not, but that’s the point of a scene like that. To stick with you and define the movie.”

“As a tragedy trying too hard to be sad. It completely ruins everything. The movie sucked, and that’s the end of it.”

“It’s better than some ridiculous cop film!”

“At least the cop film wouldn’t be boring.”

Blake glared at him fiercely, and Sun continued to sip at his theater soda with a look of utter innocence. It brought a smile to your lips. The entire walk through Vale and flight up to Beacon, they’d been debating whether or not the death of one character was really necessary or not, and it oddly brought you comfort. Their bickering was a good distraction from the insistent pain in your chest.

“I don’t care about the movie, personally,” you said, leading the way along the path. “It was nice just hanging out.”

“Yeah, exactly,” Sun said, smiling.

Blake relaxed, irritation melting away. She nodded in agreement. “You’re right. It was.”

“And I get to call it a date, right?” Sun joked, giving you a nudge.

You smiled, batting at him gently. “Maybe next time. Tonight’s just…” you paused, then looked away. “Not tonight.”

Blake studied you closely, then reached forward to take her hand in yours. She was hesitant when she laced her fingers with yours, but you still felt warmth spread through your chest at the action.

“You’re still upset about the admirer,” she guessed.

You sighed. “Yeah.”

“…I’m sorry,” she said softly.

“It’s not your fault, you know that,” you said, giving her hand a squeeze. “Things don’t always work out, and I’ll move on eventually. Besides, I…I think I like someone else anyways.”

“…You do?” Sun asked, sounding suddenly crestfallen.

“Hoping I’d end up with them that bad?” you asked.

“I did, actually,” he confessed. “I really wanted that for you. You seemed happy at first, but…I’m sorry.”

You reached out with your free hand, taking his in yours. “It’s fine. Maybe it’s for the best,” you said, giving a squeeze. “Thank you, though. I don’t know what I’d do without the two of you being here for me.”

“We’d do anything for you, you know that,” Blake murmured. “We—”

“Care about you,” Sun finished, cutting her off with a look. “A lot. You’re our friend.”

“Thanks for that,” you said again, then untangled your hands from theirs. “I’ve got to go for the night. I’ll see you both in the morning.”

“Right,” Blake said, nodding. “Sleep, uhm…sleep well.”

“Good night, guys,” you said.

You turned away then, walking toward the school building. The two of them lingered, watching you go in silence as you disappeared into the academy.

Just inside, your Scroll started to go off in your pocket. You took it out and opened it, and you didn’t know whether to feel miserable or elated at the message waiting for you.

 **Unknown:** Come outside into the courtyard.

 **Unknown:** I’m ready.

 **Unknown:** Please. Let me fix this.

Your fingers trembled as you typed out your response.

 **You:** I’m coming.

Scroll in hand, you immediately turned on your heel and ran down the hall. Your heart was racing, your nervousness undeniable. You’d been ready to meet this person _forever,_ and now that you were finally going to…It made you feel sick with anxiety.

Still, you kept running.

You burst back out into the courtyard, pausing before the statue outside. Sun and Blake were both still there, but you didn’t see any signs of—

“It was us!” Blake blurted out, stepping forward.

You stared at her in confusion, tilting her head to the side. “What…What do you mean?”

“The notes, messages, the gifts…It was us,” Sun explained, looking down. “We both wanted to say something, but…”

“It was my fault. I was worried,” Blake admitted, sounding ashamed. “I didn’t know what would happen when we said something, and I…I didn’t want to risk things. And then you—you were so _upset,_ and I thought that maybe I— _we_ —should move on and try something else, but…”

“It sucks,” Sun finished. “Seeing you so sad all the time.”

Blake nodded in agreement.

You were frozen in shock, staring at the two in absolute surprise. It took time for the information to sink in, but that was when everything began clicking into place. The stuffed kitten, the books, the cheesy messages and endless complimenting—the way they’d both acted like they were hiding something from you all the time. The fact that you hadn’t guessed before was amazing, and the fact that it made sense was the only thing helping you believe them.

“This…This _whole time,_ ” you said slowly. “The person messaging me was _you? Both of you?”_

“You’re not mad, right?” Sun asked, tail twitching nervously.

“I…”

You faltered. You weren’t sure _what_ you felt. Not angry, but…amazed, confused, relieved…You were a bit of a wreck as far as feelings went. One thing was certain, though.

“I’m not mad,” you said softly. “Just…happy.”

Blake peeked up at you through her bangs, bow stretched taut where her ears fought the fabric to go down. “…Happy?”

You nodded, raking your fingers through your hair and looking down. “I’m surprised, I won’t lie, and I’m definitely not sure how to go about both of you in this…thing, but, to be honest, I’m just relieved that I finally know,” you said, a faint smile crossing your lips. “And I don’t think I could imagine two better people to have as admirers. I only wish you’d come forward sooner.”

“I wanted to, believe me,” Sun said.

“Me, too,” Blake said, giving him a brief glare. “I just didn’t want to chase you off.”

“Yeah, no worries. I get it,” you said, exhaling slowly.

You walked past the two, making yourself comfortable on the statue’s base. They both joined you hesitantly a moment later, Sun on your left, Blake to your right. Your not-so-secret-anymore admirers. The people you’d been dying for _months_ to finally meet, unaware that they’d been right under your nose and already an important part of your life.

“How did this even happen?” you asked, looking between them.

“I started it,” Blake confessed. “A little while after joining Beacon. I liked you, but…I wasn’t sure if I was really ready to _actually_ admit it. And when we really became friends…I dunno. I started sending things. I wanted you to know, even if I was a bit too scared to say it at the time.”

“The rest is actually kinda funny,” Sun said, a faint smile meeting his lips. “I told her I liked you, and we got into a fight. She said that she already claimed you, and even showed me some of the notes to prove it. She was _so_ protective of you, but eventually she let me in on everything. I started, y’know…contributing.”

“How?”

“Having Neptune mess with my Scroll so you wouldn’t know it was me texting you. That was how we were both able to text you anonymously all the time. Nerds are useful,” he said, flashing a grin.

Blake rolled her eyes, and you sighed.

“Alright…where do we go from here?” you wondered, mumbling it half to yourself.

“A proper dinner date?” Sun suggested.

“Sun!” Blake chided.

“Actually…It doesn’t sound like a bad idea,” you said, managing an exhausted smile. “I think we have a _lot_ to talk about, you two. For now, though…my head hurts. This is a bit much to take in all at once.”

“We understand,” Blake murmured.

You glanced at her, sighing in relief. “Thanks, B.”

“Y’know, I think we deserve a reward,” Sun said suddenly, in an obvious attempt to lighten the atmosphere. “You’re not the only one that’s had their heart ripped out lately. And look at us! We finally came out with it. Aren’t we _so_ brave?”

You stared at him for a few moments, unable to help but smile. “That your way of asking for a kiss?”

“Pfffttt—I would _never_ be so rude. We haven’t even gone on a date yet!” he said indignantly, then smiled slyly. “But if you’re offering…I mean. It’d be even ruder to say no.”

You laughed, leaning over to press a kiss to his lips. He went rigid in shock for all of a few brief seconds, then returned it with clear delight. His lips were warm, eager. It made your heart swell with admiration, though Sun was the one that practically swooned when you pulled away.

“As for _you…_ ” you said, glancing at Blake.

A blush dusted over her cheeks. “Y-You don’t have to—”

You ignored her, grabbing her arm and drawing her in for a kiss anyways. Like Sun, she froze up in shock, breath catching audibly, before she reciprocated. She was tentative and shy, and you sincerely adored it.

“Thank you,” you said softly against her lips. “I know you were nervous, and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t too. I’m really glad that you finally decided to tell me. That _both_ of you decided to tell me.”

She stared at you, blinked a few times, then blushed again. It was such a rare sight that you were determined to engrave it in your memory forever.

“I…I’m glad we did, too,” she said finally, looking down. “It’s a relief, honestly.”

“You’re telling me,” you said, standing up with a playful grin. “Good thing my secret admirer was two people that I already liked. Makes things a lot less complicated!”

“Wait— _like_ liked? You already—” Sun cut off, staring at you in amazement.

“Maybe,” you said, winking. “So, dinner tomorrow night? Pick me up at eight. Nowhere fancy, though. I’ll be happy anywhere as long as it’s with you two.”

* * *

 

 **A/N:** …This was originally gonna be NSFW, not gonna lie. I had a whole sexting scene laid out, but then I accidentally ended up going a more serious route while I was rewriting. I scrapped the sexting and ended up with emotions instead. Odd.

Maybe I’ll do it for my own enjoyment another time. Like…Reader’s got a whole, “Wanna fuck with Blake/Sun?” and whichever one’s with her is all like, “…Totally.” And Reader starts out the dominant party, and then the tables turn and whoever’s on the phone (Scroll, whatever) is starting to give out instructions—

Oooh, it’s a nice thought. Gotta keep that in mind.

Honestly, though, using both Blake and Sun was kind of awesome. Like. I would _never_ complain about being in a relationship with those two. Seriously. ♥

 

 **Disclaimer:** Perhaps for the best, I do not have any ownership over RWBY. Nor do I own you. I do, however, own this story and will not take kindly to those that steal or copy it.

**For every comment, Sun gets a banana. For every kudos, Blake gets a can of tuna. Do it for them, guys.**


End file.
